


Threats

by Chiomi



Series: Get Sharp [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, POV Derek, Sheriff Stilinski Knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 00:06:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/668022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiomi/pseuds/Chiomi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I bet you’re expecting me to threaten you.”</p><p>Derek and the Sheriff have a conversation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Threats

**Author's Note:**

> Last chapter of Betty White is still in the works, but I've had this done for a couple weeks, and finally got to post the only thing in Betty White this has spoilers for.

It’s a cool night in early October, and Derek’s at the Stilinski home at the Sheriff’s request. He’s not sure where Stiles is, except not in the house. He’s not sure why he’s here, either, but he has certain expectations, and can only be grateful that this isn’t happening at the Sheriff’s department.

“I bet you’re expecting me to threaten you.”

Derek shifts his weight, because yes, obviously, that’s what people do. He’s alpha of the pack of werewolves the Sheriff’s son has gotten involved with, which means it’s his fault when Stiles comes home bruised or haunted. It’s his fault Stiles took in darkness and made it his own. Any concerned father would want him far, far away. “I think it’s procedure, sir.”

The Sheriff puts his beer down on the kitchen counter and folds his arms. “See, son, I’ve got a bit of a problem with that. Reminding you that I have a gun and wolfsbane bullets doesn’t seem like it’ll be effective, since you’ve been shot before and, as an officer of the law, it’d be real unprofessional of me to shoot you unless there’s obvious legal cause. So let me put it to you this way: if Stiles gets hurt because of this, and I think you could have prevented it, I’m going to make your life awkward.”

Derek blinks at him, keeping his face impassive. It’s a strange threat.

“The people of Beacon County respect me enough to keep electing me, despite all the trouble you kids cause. Which means they also respect me enough to take me seriously if I tell them that you’re likely to cause trouble. Ever thought about how annoying it’d be to have to drive to Redding or Sacramento to get groceries? Gas? What would happen if your apartment complex misfiled your parking information and got the strange Camaro in the lot towed? What would happen if the towing company just couldn’t find your car for hours and hours every time you had to go pick it up? How about if you became a person of interest in every case from murders to missing cats? I think it might disrupt your life a bit to spend most of your time with me down at the station. Do you understand me, son?”

Derek nods. “Yes, sir.”

“Great. Now grab a beer and come sit down - there’s a Giants game starting in a couple minutes.”

Derek wonders fleetingly if the Sheriff knows about the kiss, then dismisses the thought. They’d be having a whole different conversation, a reminder of felony charges, and there probably would be weapons involved. Though Derek has to admit that the threat of awkwardness is more chilling than violence: the Sheriff has thought this through, and nothing he said came through as a lie.

He grabs a beer from the fridge and follows the Sheriff into the living room and sits gingerly on the couch. He wishes he could tell the Sheriff about all the ass Stiles kicks before he falls over and has to be driven home, but it would probably only worry him. The first pitch goes out, and the first inning gets underway.

During the first commercial break, the Sheriff mutes the TV. “You only had a semester left for your degree, didn’t you?”

Surprised, Derek freezes a moment, then realizes that this is the Sheriff, and Stiles’ dad: of course he finds out everything. “Yeah, for sociology.”

He nods. “I’ve heard that Sac State has a very open transfer program.”

He unmutes the car commercial, leaving Derek to stew. Is he trying to give Derek advice? Peter’s the only one who’s tried that in the last year, and Peter’s cracked and probably dangerous and not at all paternal. This is weird.

It’s the third inning when the Sheriff mutes the TV again. He stands, joints creaking. “Want another beer, son?”

Derek stares at the still mostly-full beer in his hand, where it’s been getting warm. “I’m good, thanks.”

The Sheriff comes back with another beer and sits back on the couch, propping his feet on the coffee table. “With the department so short-staffed, it’s hard to get a day off to watch a ball game. We could use a couple more deputies.”

Derek can’t muster anything to say for a beat, two beats of silence. The Sheriff’s obviously going somewhere with this, but it’s completely ridiculous. “Are you suggesting -”

“Yep. Should finish your degree first, though, since the pay’s better for college graduates.”

Derek knows he’s gaping, but can’t stop. “You know how many times you’ve brought me in for questioning, right?”

The Sheriff looks like he’s enjoying himself, hiding half a smile behind the lip of the bottle. “Good thing they were all animal attacks, isn’t it? Think about it.”

He turns the volume back up.

Derek deliberately loosens the death grip he has on the beer bottle and takes a swig. He’d always wanted to be a cop when he was a kid.


End file.
